Chapter Two
Patrick watched a myriad of expressions cross Caness’s face and chuckled inwardly. She might not realize it, but he’d waited a long time for this. He hefted his heavier than normal bag over his shoulder and took a tighter grip on her arm. “The car is in the basement garage. We can go out through the back.”
“Why are you doing this?”
His long strides made her jog to keep up with him. “Because I want to.”
He steered her out of the gallery and locked up behind them. The last few shop owners and shoppers were all intent on getting home whilst they could, and the lift was full. Pushed up close to her back, her delectable curves nigh on plastered against him, his cock decided to get in on the act and press against her ass. He heard her short indrawn breath and saw the faint tremble that shivered through her.
“It would prefer to be in your ass, not rubbing it, but even if we didn’t get arrested, this lift is a bit too full to get it out, let alone in,” he whispered in her ear. “It’ll need to wait. But hold the thought, will you?”
She snorted and twisted her head so she could look at him. Her mouth was near enough to his ear for him to hear her speak and it not carry to the tall Japanese gentleman next to him.
“Of you trying to wave your dick in the air and say ‘hey it’s got a mind of its own’, and then watch the men in white coats cart you off? Oh sure, I’ll hold on to that, no worries.”
“Sassy sub… Remember though, pet, there’s a time and a place.” The lift stopped and as soon as the doors began to open, people spilled out and streamed off in different directions. Patrick tugged Caness to one side and waited until they could move with ease.
“The grey BMW to your left.” She nodded and moved in the direction he’d indicated. Patrick wondered if she’d always be so obedient. When Anthony had spoken of her, and her lack of a Dom, Patrick’s body had tightened as he remembered the girl who had looked at him with submission uppermost in every inch of her. Even then he knew that one day, she’d be his.
Anthony, however, had warned him off. Asked him to wait until she’d established herself in her profession. There was, he said, enough of him in her to know that once she gave herself to the right Dom, her life would change forever more. Patrick, who was only just beginning to establish himself in his own career, had reluctantly agreed.
That had been three years ago, but unbeknown to Caness—he hoped—he’d kept tracks on her. Then last week, Anthony had said the words Patrick had wanted to hear. “She’s ready.”
“For a sub you’re awful mouthy and dictatorial,” Patrick told him with a grin.
Anthony nodded. “When it’s my sister’s life we’re meddling in, yup.”
That was fair enough.
“You’ll shake up the man you refuse to name.”
Anthony didn’t pretend to not understand. “If he lets me.”
“He will, you just need to be patient. And that is something you’ll need to cultivate as a sub to him.”
They’d both laughed. Anthony was not known for his patience.
Patrick unlocked the car and held the door open for Caness, before he put his bag into the boot. He was conscious of excitement and expectation, the likes of which he’d never experienced before.
Within a few minutes they were in the queue to get out of the car park. He glanced across at her and she squirmed, kicked her shoes off, and wriggled her stocking-clad toes. Her nails were a deep ‘fuck me now’ red, totally at odds with the pale pearly color on her hands. Such a contradiction.
“I’m sorry I’ll be making your upholstery wet. I got soaked through and really, although I dried the worst of it, I’m still not dry, if you know what I mean.”
Patrick nodded, his attention on the flow of traffic. He nudged the car into Nathan Road ahead of a taxi. The driver tooted his horn and Patrick waved.
“There’s one of my jumpers on the back seat, pet.” He stretched his arm behind him, found it, and put it into the footwell next to her shoeless feet. “It’ll work as a dress on you, and it’s cashmere and warm. Take off your clothes and put that on instead.” He made sure it didn’t come across as a request, or even as a, “well, if you want to.” He might as well start as he hoped to go on. In charge.
“Eh? But we’re driving up a main road. Anyone could see.” She didn’t appear half as outraged as he thought she might. Especially for someone who—allegedly—wasn’t interested in what else he might ask. “There’s buses all over the place and every one of them is full.”
“So?” He made sure she understood he wasn’t impressed by that comment.
“So, well, what if I get reported or something? I’ll stay damp.”
Time for straight talking.
“Caness, am I wrong? That the jewelry didn’t excite you? Make you wet and ready to submit to me? That the thought of wearing it while I spank you until you float, or trace patterns on your skin with my scriber or wax doesn’t make your juices gush? Doesn’t make you want to rub your legs together to increase all that lovely throbbing between them? Are you telling me that if I asked you if you were ready to submit you’d say no?”
She gave the most enticing, cock-hardening gasp and moan at his words. “Well, no, I’m not saying that, but blimey, we only met an hour ago and it’s a bit full on, isn’t it?”
“We met several years ago. I might not have short hair and glasses anymore, but you can’t tell me you didn’t know who I was.” He’d seen the flash of recognition cross her face when it dawned on her he wasn’t a stranger.
“I didn’t at first,” she said, as honest as he expected. “Then I thought you looked familiar. But then you were so informal, and now? A custom made suit and Gucci loafers.”
“And a chain store T-shirt,” he pointed out, looking down at his plain black T-shirt. “We’re in Hong Kong, of course my suit is custom made. You can’t walk down Nathan Road without being accosted every five yards. Are you telling me you have no fake watches, handbags, or the like?”
She waved her wrist in the air. “Nope. My Patek Phillipe is the real thing, likewise my Mulberry. I made up my mind it was real or nothing.”
“I like that attitude. My suits have no fake labels. I like comfy shoes and long hair is my preference, but I accept it also suits my image. I’m in a suit because I had customers due, until the impending typhoon made them cancel. Their helicopter couldn’t take off from Macau. Normally it would be the jeans and T-shirt look and my hair tied back. What else?” He thought for a second. “I wear contacts and work hard. I’m solvent, single, and have no sub at the moment, although I have great hopes for the near and far future. Think back, pet. You showed me you were ready then, but I waited until you were established at work. As you’ve now left Grey, Garbo, and Fullister, I decided it was time. And yes, Anthony agrees.”
“You discussed me with my brother?’ Her voice was a screech and Patrick winced.
“Yes I did,” he said flatly. “He’s my friend, he knows you, and if I’d read you wrongly, then I would never have addressed you like this and you would have been none the wiser about how I want you.”
She was silent for so long he had time to actually get through two sets of traffic lights and onto a wider road. No less busy, but the traffic moved steadily. Not that the pace was anything to write home about. Hong Kong drivers hated rain of any kind and black rain was so much worse. Their normal speed and ‘squeeze into an impossible gap with no thoughts to anyone else’ tactics changed into the most sedate driver known to man—or Hong Kong. Both extremes were stressful to be in.
Especially just then, when the windscreen wipers were having trouble showing a clear view for more than half a second in ten.
The traffic stopped again and Patrick looked at her. “He said he thought you wouldn’t slap my face.”
“Hah, little does he know. I would if I thought it was merited. Or used some karate. And how do you want me exactly?” she asked, as she unbuttoned her jacket and wriggled out of it to show a sheer white blouse with a camisole under it.
It hinted, teased, and his cock responded with alacrity. He’d have zipper teeth marks on it if he didn’t control himself. The only teeth marks he wanted on him anywhere were Caness’s. “Every way. I hope to hell you say yes, pet, or my cock is gonna snap under the strain it’s putting on itself.”
“Yes?” she said absently as she unbuttoned the blouse and threw it onto the back seat. “Yes to… oh… us…” She grabbed the jumper from the floor and with a grin he could only describe as bratty, slid the shoulder straps of her camisole down and off her arms and pulled the jumper over her head.
“Clever,” he commented as she tugged the jumper lower, and lifted her butt to draw the camisole off. “Can you do the skirt as easily?”
“Nope, but I’ll try my best not to flash the number 293.” She gestured at the double decker bus in the inside lane and began to do the most arousing wriggle known to cock and the rest of man.
“Sod it, keep the bloody things on. I’ll come in my trousers if you don’t stop that fucking twist and grind.” He ground the command out through gritted teeth.
“Ah…oh sorry, but nearly done.” She pulled her skirt down and he swore he got a flash of red hair as she did so. Then with a muttered, “Excuse me,” Caness rolled her discarded skirt up, along with what he swore were red lacy panties, and put them into her handbag. It wasn’t hair then? I hope she dares to be bare.
“Garter belt or hold ups?” he asked abruptly.
“Suspender belt. I’m mainly British, went to a British school and uni, and use British words.” She twisted in her seat and grinned. “So remember when you tell me off for swearing, fuck, bugger, and shit are words of endearment in that language.”